The Evangelist
by bloomblaum
Summary: My version of how Noodle was reunited with the band. And the fight with the boogeyman who bought Murdoc's soul.
1. Chapter 1

2D

* * *

Zombie movies always reminded 2D of Noodle.

Memories came flooding back as he sat in front of the tv with it's wickedly poor reception and zombies crept across deserted warehouses. The zombie flicks were incredibly cheesy and only 2D and Noodle could have possibly thought it was scary. They'd both been full of innocent, childlike wonder as the zombies picked up chainsaws. Her tiny hand would grab his jacket and clutch at it with terror. "T'is all right, Noods," 2D would say, but he was trembling himself, thinking _what if, what if what if? _What if the zombies kept up their funeral march all the way to Kong to munch on his own flesh? What if they got Noodle? Then 2D would be forced to deal with Muds alone. Somehow, this was unthinkable. He tried not to think of zombies eating Noodle, but the thoughts kept edging in like one of his bad migranes.

The tv flickered and white lines crept across it. He'd seen this movie upwards of twenty times, but he sometimes forgot just how it ended. It was a miracle the battered, miniture TV even got reception out on Plastic Beach. _Stupid mound of trash, _2D thought. He stared briefly out the window, looking for the crazy whale that circled the underwater window daily. _Stupid, bloody whale. Comes by every hour to bang against the glass. Living in a basement, I am. Bloody basement. All Mud's fault. Gassed me, he did. Wouldn't be so bad if Noodle were here..._

He clutched at his head, and sat very still. He tried to pretend he was back at Kong, and the sun was shining through his windows. He wasn't underwater or anything like that. Just the sun and the sound of Mud's tuning up a guitar, and the idea that he wasn't sitting on crappy point Nemo, completely alone. The mountain of trash they sat on got bigger by the day as Muds tossed out empty rum bottles. The only thing he really had to look forward to was Muds shouting at the giant Russel which was kinda funny, come to think of it. The food bill for him was enourmous and this made Murdoc angry, which made him angry at 2D, which had resulted in the stuffy little room with bad reception.

"When I get out of this prison, I'm going back to Kong..." 2D whispered. The place was already burned to the ground, but he wanted to sit in the charred out shell of Noodle's room one last time. The skeleton of Kong was still there even if the soul had long gone out. There was the ghost of De La Soul, who prowled the skeleton hallways. He would probably be glad to see 2D come back.

A particulary nasty bit of zombie butchery came on the screen, making 2D almost fly out of his seat. His thin arm shot across to hold onto Noodle. "Oh, tha's right..." he whispered. Ropes seemed to draw tight around his throat and he sat there shaking, hoping Noodle would tell him it was over now. Plastic Beach had just been a nightmare. "I hate yew Muds! I hate you! I...I...I can't..."

He hated Murdoc. He hated this mountain of trash. He hated himself for letting Noodle die. A tear washed silently down his face and left a clean streak through the dirt.

"It can't get any worse for me, can it now?" He said quitely, as the key turned in the door. It opened with a bang. "Faceache! Should I come back later? What are we watching?" Said Murdoc Nichols. His face was a particularly hideous shade of green today.

"Zombies. I mean, nuffink." He wondered if Muds would let him out today. Fridays were Freedom day. He could go wherever he wanted on Plastic Beach. Was today Friday? Blast. Wasn't it Wednesday? Waffle Wednesday, but where was the food?

Murdoc wrenched the DVD player open and broke the horrid zombie disc in half. Two dent needed a proper kick in the pants to get back to work. He heard a soft groan coming from the hunched over little body on the floor and his eyes flicked down to take in the singer. He was wearing three day old clothes, his hair was disheveled, and he looked absolutely pathetic. Hmmm...nothing new. Unfortunately, Muds saw the single tear dangling from the worn out singer's chin and knelt down to examine him more closely.

2D shrugged away from the garlic breath. He rubbed furiously at his cheek.

"The only reason to cry is if I were to die. Unfortunately for you, here I am! So you see, there's no reason."

2D shrugged. "I 'ave feelings too y' know," he said.

"Absolutely shocking," grunted Muds. He would not admit he was concerned. But he was. He had never seen 2D so depressed, and he had done plenty of horrible things to the lead singer.

"Keep working on those songs. We have a recording tommorow."

"Wot's the point?"

"That's the right attitude!" Muds clapped him once on the back and dropped the broken CD in his lap. "No more distractions. Back to work!"

"Jus' when I think things can't get any worse, they always fin' a way," said 2D as the door slammed shut. He tried to put the two halfs of the CD back together. _Oh hey, I have some tape. _No, that was never going to work. It was broken, just like everything in his life.

Broken all broken.

* * *

Dunn dunn dunn To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Russ liked to eat. Alot. He couldn't fit on Plastic Beach anymore because of some kind of spell that had been cast on him. He was bigger than a whale now. He'd always been chuffed at for his size, but now he was just ridiculous. No one dared to say anything to Russ any more for fear that he would swallow them whole. Actually, that was a lie as Muds often stood on the balcony in his underwear and chucked empty rum bottles at the giant Russ' head. To this, Russ would respond with an earthquaking burp. The water around him would shudder, and even 2D in his prison, was concious something had happened. "Bloody hell!" Murdoc would yell. He threw another bottle of champange and watched the glass explode but there was no response from the giant.

"You can't be a part of Gorillaz like that! You can't make music! You won't fit inside the studio!" Muds yelled, his voice loud enough to carry miles across the empty sea.

"Ey, you still got Two Dent..." said Russ, ducking his head underwater and coming up slowly, so that only his eyes surveyed Muds now. They were giant and brown, and not so different from the whale now that you come to think of it.

"Bloody lot of good he does me. He just sits in his room and mopes all day. It's Noodle this, and Noodle that."

Russ went quiet. A squid was creeping up his bare head, clinging to the flesh. It was disturbing to watch. Muds cringed. "Hey man, you're the one who got her shot off the windmill."

Muds felt a rare moment of guilt which was like indigestion. He could have swore it was just the taco salad, but now he was flashing back to images of Noodle's face. The day she had arrived in the crate. Oh, he had seen money signs right away! 7 digits! And she had been kind too, helping 2D patch up after Muds lost his temper on him. She was a gentle, kind soul. A pity she had been taken away from them so soon. She really could have helped them go Platinum on Plastic Beach. This cyborg just wasn't getting the job done.

But he missed her. He missed the quiet way she had of reasurring everybody that everything was ok. He missed the way she had of drawing them together. He missed the sound of her guitar and the trouble she'd had saying certain words.

"Muds, you ok, man?" He was staring at the horizon, thinking _simple thing, Gorillaz isn't Gorillaz without Noodle. _

"Er, just a bit of indigestion," said Muds. "Taco salad really did a number." He snatched up another bottle of rum in his long, green fingers. Was he getting a bit of a tan? "Anyway, you've got to get yourself back to the way you were, mate. This just isn't going to work for the recording schedule."

"Uh Muds..."

"Yes?"

"First of all your zippers down."

"Damn."

A sound of zipping. "And?"

"Second, I think you ought to do something for Two Dent. He seems down."

"Ah Two Dent..." said Muds, as though 2D were a piece of floatsam gently floating through the current. "I gave him a room. I gave him a role in Gorillaz, the best band in the world. In other words, I gave him life, I gave him soul...what more could I do for the twerp?"

"Uh, I was thinking more along the lines of setting him free. Sometimes you have to do that, set free the things you uh care about."

"Are you accusing me of...caring? I thought you knew me better than that. Gorillaz, ah, now I care about Gorillaz. Good band, you know. 2D well, I mean, I'm letting him live here aren't I? And free of rent. Really couldn't think of a better deal myself."

Russ rolled his eyes. "He reminds me of that pelican. One always sittin by the entrance, all lost. Eyes all blank. Confused, Muds. Wondering what the bloody hell is going on."

"That's 2D, you idiot. He's always confused." Muds squared his shoulders and walked away.

He was doing the best thing, for their band, wasn't he? Gorillaz, the best band on Earth. Gorillaz, the empire to beat. He had made a deal with the Boogeyman. His soul for the fame. Wonderful deal. Shame he'd sold Noodle's soul in the process. But I built a new one, he consoled himself. Nothing should be going wrong. But everything was.

"What the hell does he know?" Thought Muds, taking another shot of rum with his head whipped back. "Nothing wrong with the twerp that wasn't wrong before." He felt a small shiver, it was probably just the rum. _Noone accuses me of caring,_ he thought. _What a horrible insult. _

A memory: Noodle in shorts and a tank top dancing around the room, such a free spirit. Damn. He took another shot of rum. Noodle crawling out of the packing crate, oh dear. Another shot. He was shivering, the blasted bloody rum! It usually made his insides burn. He supposed that was just it, he was rediscovering the drunken pleasure of it.

"Oh bugger it all!" He shook his head and went in search of more rum. What's better than rum, he muttered, more rum of course!


End file.
